


Jive

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-15 00:42:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21024941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Aliens make them dance.





	Jive

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The ball is one of those things that looked like a nightmare from afar—a full night of diplomatic small talk, ridiculously loud alien music, and, worst of all, _dress uniforms._ But once he’s actually in the thick of things, Jim doesn’t hate it as much as he’d feared. The Mrennenimian councilors don’t seem to want to back Jim into a corner and bore him out of his mind. Instead, they practically throw him onto the dance floor and seem content to leave him there. Better yet, Jim gets to see _Spock_ on the dance floor, and after several rounds of partnering with their three-armed hosts, they finally wind up in something of a tango together.

The dance isn’t technically choreographed, at least, according to their hosts, but Spock acts like it is. The blue-skinned aliens around them seem to move in near-perfect unison, falling in and out of complicated moves that almost wind Jim just to watch. Jim couldn’t keep up if he tried, but he doesn’t have to. He lets Spock lead, and Spock guides him expertly through each step. When one song ends and another starts, Jim doesn’t let anyone cut in. Sticking with Spock hides his own inability to learn their difficult dance, and it also means he doesn’t have to feel their clammy thirty-five fingers sticking to his uniform. If Spock would like another partner, he’s not doing anything about it. 

Spock sweeps him out and pulls him back in. Their chests crush together, Jim’s breath whisked away, but he sucks it in and manages as Spock spins them in a circle. Their hands remain locked together the entire time, fingers fully entwined, and maybe that’s why Spock has stuck close to Jim all night. It would be rude to ignore their hosts’ wish that they dance, but Jim knows Spock has no desire for physical contact with strangers. At least touching Jim is a familiar feeling, and they’ve already melded so many times that the extra layer of touch-telepathy doesn’t mean a thing. Spock already knows him inside and out. He knows all of Spock in return. He keeps his eyes locked on Spock’s face, occasionally getting lost in the darkness of Spock’s eyes and the subtle frown on his bow lips. His eyes never once leave Jim’s. They might as well be staring into one another’s souls. Spock’s a thoroughly handsome man, and if Jim has to waste an entire evening staring at someone, at least it’s Spock. He’ll keep this up, sweating and breathing hard but matching Spock’s every movement, until the Mrennenimians let him stop.

That might finally be happening. A long, moist finger taps Jim’s shoulder, and he and Spock both stop swaying. The Minister of Odd Contact with Others Not Known is standing before them, and she leans in to be heard over the music. The universal translator struggles and sluggishly relays her words.

“You honour us with your dancing, Federation guests. You have been almost fully appropriate.”

“Almost?” Jim returns. For once, the mission was going so smoothly—the planet’s almost exactly as reported in the initial survey. The minister wriggles her arms—their version of a nod—and leans in again.

“We have but one complaint. We would like you to stop... ahh... forgive me, what is the word... _eye-fucking_ your first officer.”

Jim’s been a captain long enough that he might not be _entirely_ crimson. But he’s definitely blushing to some extent. Spock’s hands immediately fall from Jim’s, and Jim feels colder for it. Jim muddles through: “Uh, I’m... terribly sorry about that, Minister. We’ll... try not to do that anymore.”

The minister’s arms flail wildly. If Jim recalls correctly, that means he’s forgiven. She tilts her entire body to the left, then disappears back into the pulsating crowd. 

Jim considers his options. There are others he can dance with. He knows he’s supposed to dance. The thought of Spock moving on to dance with someone else is vaguely... not right.

Jim finally decides, “Right. Eyes down, Commander. ...But not _too_ far down.” He steps back into Spock’s arms, collects Spock’s hands, and resumes their rhythmic movement. He stares pointedly at Spock’s chin the entire time and definitely doesn’t think about taking Spock back to his quarters for a private, lesser-dressed dance under the blankets of his bed.


End file.
